


Counting the Scars

by iloveitblue



Series: Prompts [157]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Foreplay, M/M, fluff at the end, nothing else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 09:40:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3129899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iloveitblue/pseuds/iloveitblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Phil maps out Clint's chest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counting the Scars

They stumbled into the room, the door slamming closed behind them, with their limbs already tangled with each other - all without their usual grace. Needy lips begged Phil for more without words and Phil was more than happy to comply. He’s wanted this, wanted Clint, for such a long time he’s long since stopped counting the years.

Phil pushed Clint against the door and pinned the archer’s strong arms above his head. Beautiful muscles, tanned skin, and gorgeous sheen of sweat hidden underneath the three piece suit Clint had worn for the night. 

Phil was kind of pissed at the outrageous amount of clothes he’s going to have to get through just to get to feel Clint’s skin against his but  _damn_ , Clint looks hot in the suit. Phil is almost tempted not to touch the archer at all and just stare at the gorgeous man in front of him.  _Almost._

Phil’s free hand cradled the back of Clint’s neck down to his jaw, angling Clint’s face to deepen the already deep kiss. Clint moaned into Phil’s mouth all the while jutting his hips forward to let Phil know that he likes kissing Phil very much. A shiver runs up Phil’s spine at the thought of it.

His thoughts were interrupted when his fingers grazed a patch of skin along Clint’s skin that formed a straight line from his ear, following his jaw. Phil pulled back, panting still but concern painted his face. 

"What’s this?" He asked, rubbing the scar.

"It’s a scar I got 15 years ago. Are we really going to talk about this now?" Clint’s pupil’s were blown and his breathing ragged. His arms were still pinned above his head and everything about him turned Coulson on even more.

"Not if you don’t want to. We could still do it while you tell me." Phil tilted Clint’s head up and kissed up the scar’s line to prove a point and then back down as he sucked on the skin just between the line of the archer’s neck and shoulders.

Clint moaned and his arms struggled slightly, wanting to break free of the hold but at the same time not. It was a strange feeling. “I got it while trying to escape a guy.” He rushed the words out as he moaned once again. He’d have tried harder to remember the name of the guy but Phil was sort of distracting him, “Oh god, Phil.”

"I’m listening." Phil said, his voice as steady as it always is but Clint felt his lips curl into a smile against his collar bone. 

Phil went back to sucking and kissing and licking the spot of what Clint was sure was already heavily bruised.

"He tried to shoot me, he had good aim but I was a little bit faster. I- He missed by a few inches." 

Phil hummed at the very short end of the story but was pleased to hear it anyway, maybe he could ask for a longer version once they’re done. The hand pinning Clint’s to the door dropped to Clint’s shoulders as their lips met once again. The kiss turned filthy in a second. 

Phil’s hands roamed the vast expanse of Clint’s clothed chest, undoing buttons as he felt them. Clint did the same, distractedly unbuttoning Phil’s shirt as they kissed dirtier than Stark’s favorite martini.

Phil slipped his hand underneath all three pieces of clothing and he marveled at the warm skin underneath his fingertips. He was right, there was a thin sheen of sweat covering Clint’s chest, that made it easier for his hands to slide back up Clint’s torso until Phil held the ball of Clint’s shoulder in each hand. Carefully, and so painstakingly slowly, he let his hands run down Clint’s amazing arms, pushing the clothes out of the way and drop unceremoniously to the floor.

They parted when Clint pulled away to tug at his tie and throw it aside, Phil helped by getting rid of his jacket. His shirt wasn’t unbuttoned all the way down so Phil left it on.  

And then, Phil was pulling Clint to the bed. He pushed the archer lightly and Clint fell with a soft ‘oof’. Phil positioned his knees on either side of Clint’s hip and started to kiss his chest. His hands start to roam again and Phil swore up and down in his head that he’s never going to get tired of hearing Clint moan with pleasure.

He ran a finger down another scar, this time it ran across Clint’s side, a long gash that must have bled a lot when it was made. “What about this?” Phil whispered into his skin, kissing the tip of the scar closest to Clint’s belly button. 

Clint still panted beneath him as he answered, “Knife thrower angled wrong.”

Phil hummed again and searched for more scars. He found a few more covering Clint’s chest alone. Clint told one sentence stories on how he got them, Phil was a little amazed that Clint could remember the moment he received each one of his scars.

Phil’s hand stopped at a bullet wound on just under Clint’s hip bone and off to the side. The wound was strategic, if anything, placed and targeted so that Clint would have a hard time walking, or escaping, was the likely scenario, but not close enough to actually cause any permanent damage. “How about this one?” Phil asked, rubbing circles at the scar. 

Clint paused and Phil could see the gears in Clint’s head working. “You,” He whispered silently. “You, uh, You shot me there but it was a necessary evil and I would’ve run away again if you didn’t. It was a good call and I wasn’t hurt all that much-” Whenever Clint rambled on like this he doesn’t usually stop until he actually runs out of breath, the only way to shut him up was with a kiss it seemed. 

Phil’s kiss this time was gentle, a distraction to Clint’s otherwise busy mouth. Phil pulled away just enough for him to stare at the blond’s eyes. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.

"Don’t be. Not if it led me to you." Clint paused for effect. "To this moment."

It took a moment, but Phil cracked a grin at Clint before he rested his head against Clint’s shoulder and started chuckling. “That was horribly cheesy. I can’t believe you said that.” Phil pulled his head up to stare at Clint again, who was grinning proudly, and scrunched up his nose. “I can’t believe you said that”

"Get used to it. You’re stuck with me for now." Clint kissed his nose.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Here on tumblr](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/107326974646/its-back-to-school-tomorrow-fuck-it-lets-all)


End file.
